


Today, I'm the Wolf

by Desdimonda



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Just smut, Shameless Smut, Slight Dom/Sub, The Vixen and the Wolf, The Wolf and the Halla, angry smut, dom!lavellan, dominant Lavellan, wolf/halla undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 04:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3161147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desdimonda/pseuds/Desdimonda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan confronts Solas for abandoning her with nothing but a kiss after painting her nude, in an extremely sensual situation. She pays him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Today, I'm the Wolf

'What was that? You just leave after that?' called Saga as she entered the rotunda, the hardwood door clattering against the wall. She was dressed in a mismatch of clothes. A rough linen tunic, tied at the waist with a long, leather belt, bound twice. Her leather trousers sat low on her hips, the top button undone. Feet were bare, her hair full and free, long white waves dancing around her shoulders.

'What was what?' asked Solas with a casual smile, leaning back against the chair of his desk, arms clasped before him, obscuring the book he was perusing.

Saga blinked, incredulous. _‘That!_ ’ she said, gesturing behind her in the general direction of her quarters.

'That was me painting you,' he said, unable, no unwilling to shift that little, teasing smile.

'Oh. We're playing that game, are we?' she said, taking a step closer, cocking her hip to the side. A lithe hand graced her waist as she stood, watching Solas, his casual demeanour a fire for her fury.

'And what game might that be, da'mi?' He pushed, words teetering on the edge.

'This.' Saga leaned forward and swept her arms across his desk, sending contents crashing to the floor in a delectable cacophony of sound. Metal on metal, parchment crushing against the stone. The inkwell shattered, sending droplets of black up her leg, spotting her pale, cloth bound feet. Books met the floor, quills falling, the tips pinging off the stone. The only thing that remained on the table was Saga; knees bit into the wood, hands steadying her as she leaned forward, her mouth an inch from his, ruby lips parted. She breathed gently, quickly. Green eyes shone with fire, with fury and desire. 'Cat and mouse; wolf and halla; _you and me.’_

Solas watched, stoic, motionless; the only thing that she could read were his eyes. Hands clasped before his chest, fingers peaked as he watched his woman; his goddess kneel before him on the table, her white, wavy hair draping into his lap. He smiled. ‘Is this how you thank me for painting you?’ he asked, a whisper of a smile tugging at his lips. He could not hide the provocation in his eyes.

‘This is how I thank you.’ Hungry hands sought his fleecy robe, fingers digging into the fabric, hooking at his flesh. She pulled him forward, lips pressed together, parted; tongues met. Saga slid her hands across his chest, rolled fingers over his shoulders, feeling the broad, taut muscles so unfamiliar to her kin. A moan escaped, breathing against his lips. She clawed at his neck, touching, begging, pulling him close.

He responded, just how she knew he would. Strong spell-weavers hand’s sought her shoulders, pushing, commanding, seeking her back to collide with the table.

_No._

'Today, I'm the wolf,' she whispered, the words dancing off his lips, hot, breathy. Their eyes met. They held their gaze for a moment, lips brushing against lips, rapid, desperate breaths trembling their bodies. Saga clung to his neck, draping her calloused fingers across his skin. She smiled, seeing the gleam of heady anticipation alight his eyes and curve his lips to a smile.

'Then what am I?' he said against her lips as she slid off the table and into his lap. Strong, taut thighs straddled him, pressing against his body, holding him still. She drew fingers along his hid, teasing the slide of his ears; they quivered beneath her touch.

_'Mine.'_

They kissed, hungrily. Wet lips smearing the other, gliding along cheeks, along the slide of jaws, and nibbling the flesh of their ears. His tunic met the floor, the tip of the sleeve catching the black of the ink. Metal clattered on stone as Saga cast aside her belt, kicking off her leathers, laughing frustrated curses against Solas’s neck as she did.

'What about-' interrupted Solas with a whisper to her ear.

'They're at dinner,' she said against his throat, words accented with kisses. 'Where we should be.'

'All of them?' he said, breathless, as he felt her hand slide between his legs, the calloused tips of her fingers gripping his hard arousal.

 _'Yes._ I’m the Inquisitor. They so as I say.’

'I thought you were a wolf, today,' he said, teasing.

'A girl can be many things, all at once,' she said, silencing his words with another kiss.

Hands that gripped his arousal slid up, and down. Fingertips rolled across the skin in languid motions. He moaned into their kiss; the soft, melodic sounds echoing against the painted walls. Saga trailed her lips along his jaw, teeth nipping at the skin, her tongue soothing over the bite marks.

His touch was eager, desperate. The thread of control had slipped from his grasp; it hovered before Saga, tempting, teasing. She had taken it with her teeth and tugged hard, taking what she wanted, when she wanted. It was hard for him to let go, and still, he traversed her body like it was the first time, like it was the last time.

'Can't let go, can you?' she asked against his ear, pulling back her hands from his cock. She felt his body tense, cry out for their return but she just leaned over, grabbed her belt, pushed his arms behind his back and bound them together, winding the long leather over and over his hands, settling them comfortably behind the chair. 'Now you'll have to,' she said, biting the edge of her lip.

Saga pulled off her tunic and threw it aside, the fabric pooling on the floor. His brow tightened, dark, lustful eyes watched her move, watched the glide of her arm, the flick of her wrist. The way her shoulders rolled as she leaned forward to pepper his neck with a kiss, with a bite. She felt his moan vibrate against her lips as he tilted back his head, delighting in the control he had lost, and that she had gained.

Her hands slid from his skin and met her own. Calloused fingers glided across her body, circling the curves of her breasts. Her fingers, instead of his teeth, tugged at the silver rings that hung from her nipples. Her moans filled the quiet, echoing off the walls, the sweet, melodic sounds beauty to his ears.

She dipped two fingers between her legs, languid, lazy. She caught the edge of his arousal with her hand, a negligible touch, a tease, a glance. She stroked the spot between her legs, wet and hot against his thighs, her juices smearing the skin. Saga dipped back her head, long, white hair brushing over his knees, red nipples peaked, pointing to the sky.

He watched her delicate motions, the way her wrist turned, echoing the curve of her fingers; the way she bit the side of her lip; the way her hand ran through her tousled hair, fingers gripping at the white locks, channelling the swathes of pleasure that coursed through her blood.

Saga felt his body twitch beneath her legs; he struggled with his binds, and she loved it. She sat up, flicking her hair around her shoulders, letting it cascade over her bare breasts, bouncing gently with each motion. Her wicked eyes, her wicked smile was accompanied by a gentle laugh as she sat up on her knees and slowly slid down onto his hard, hot, desperate cock.

Solas moaned, loudly. He struggled against his bonds, desperate to touch her, to hold her, to feel her against his skin. But she didn’t let him, except for the taut thighs against his, and the fingers that held his head steady, as she watched him breathe, rapid, quick, desperate breaths. And as she watched him moan, the hungry noise scratching at his throat.

Kisses peppered his skin as she rocked back and forth, her hips languid, fluid. Her breasts bounced with each motion, the rings flicking against her skin. Hands that once held his head steady now ran through her hair, twisting her white hair. Her moans were a melody to his harmony; it was music that filled the night air.

He breathed quicker; as did she. Her feet twitched, his ears dipped down. The edges of his mouth curved into a smile, eyes closed. Saga could see the signs; the quiver in his ears, the curve of his mouth, turning into an involuntary smile. Shoulders tightened as she felt him near the crest of his orgasm. Her hands, nails, sank into his shoulders as she thrust her hips, harder, faster. The tips of her hair grazed his stomach, brushing, tickling against his chest.

Saga felt the swell of her orgasm reach it’s peak. She digged in her fingers and threw back her head, sending a swathe of white hair across her back as she cried out into the night, her voice a melody of moans; his name whispered off the tip of her lips. Solas joined her, a second later. His back arched against the chair, hands tugging against the binds. She took him into a kiss, letting him moan against her lips, let their breath mingle as they revelled in the cloying swathes of their climax. Hot, sweaty bodies collided. Saga drew her fingers along the slide of his ears, pinching the tip playfully as she smiled through their kiss, a light giggle passing her lips.

‘Like a sheep caught in my trap,’ she said against his cheek, seeing the strain shine through his eyes.

‘A wolf in sheeps clothing,’ he whispered back, catching the lobe of her ear between his teeth.

Saga gasped, surprised at his gesture. Fingers graced his face, cheeks tinged red from pleasure. She rolled her thumb along the crest of his brow, studying the mage, the enigma, the bare faced, clanless elf that she loved.

‘You hide well,’ she teased, touching his nose with hers.

 

_If only you knew, my little halla._


End file.
